The above picture is of one of my former bands, Bad
Weapons. I believe this is circa 1988. These photos were recently developed
from negatives that were sitting in my drawer for over 25 years. Only
last week did I lay eyes on them for the 1st time since they were
taken (big thank you to Charlie, the bass player, 2nd from the right, for having these photos
developed and sharing them).
When I 1st saw them, I was amazed and excited to
see them. This was from a time when I was of an age where the future was to be
seized and possibilities were supposedly limitless. I was a budding wannabe
Rock star waiting for my turn at stardom and all the perks such a life was supposed
to have (i.e. sex, drugs, etc). However, as I continued to look at them, a myriad
of memories came rushing back to me, some very unpleasant and uncomfortable.
I won’t go into detail on the exact nature of some of the memories
as they are personal and involve people that may not want to have such things drudged up. But I will say these photos were taken at the beginning of
a period in my life that would devolve into a personal dark place that
ultimately caused me to re-evaluate the direction of my life.
The dilapidated building we are
leaning against was our band’s rehearsal studio. It was a former chicken-feed
processing place outside Petaluma, CA. I wish I can say we spent all
our hours there honing our Rock and Roll skills to a fine point. But, while we
did spend a fair amount of time rehearsing, writing songs, and such, we spent
far more of our time getting loaded. Eventually, and due in part to my own
behavior, that place would double as my home for 1 year. While there are funny
moments I recall from that time, such as putting together an outdoor shower
with some 2x4’s, plastic tarp, and a garden hose, there are far more
less-than-pleasant memories that I had not spent too much time thinking until I
saw these pictures.
And that brings me to the point: Memories are powerful
things. Coupled with a history, they evolve in perception as one becomes
(hopefully) wiser and experienced. The memories these pictures evoke in the
2015 version of me are completely different than what they would have evoked
had I saw these 10 years ago, 15 years ago….25 years ago. The memories today are far more complex but,
at the same time, meaningful. I see a more complete picture of who I was back
then in the light of the man I’ve become. A big difference with these pictures
compared to other pictures of my past is the specific pivotal point of my life
in which these were taken. Whereas, if I see a baby picture or one from grade
school, there is a recalled sense of innocence. With these pictures, not only
has the innocence been lost, but there is a recollection of the misguided
bravado of young adulthood mixed with a growing sense of dysfunction and loss. It’s
hard to articulate but it’s a peculiar experience to see these photos again.
I will say that, having gone through the dark period that I
was about to embark on at the time of these photos yielded several life-altering
decisions and experiences. One, in particular, is worth sharing.
On December 7th, 1991, we were to rehearse at the
“studio” pictured above for a very important show. On that particular night,
Corey, our singer, decided to skip practice. This was not the 1st
time this happened but, on that particular night, his absence infuriated me.
Perhaps, my anger was fueled by growing difference between us that started the
year prior when I made the decision to stop drinking/partying. As is often the case, relationships that were
based on mutual debauchery tend to become strained if one of the parties in the
relationship decides to “clean up”. But, that said, I looked at our ongoing
relationship as a musical necessity as well as I wanted to maintain a
friendship. However, skipping practice that particular night was not going to
go unchallenged.
So….I drove to the bar I suspected he was hanging out and…sure
enough, there he was!!!! As the bar was
crowded, I wasn’t going to confront him there but I would wait him out. In the
course of waiting, I came to meet a beautiful Filipina woman, albeit in an
unusual way in that she almost burned my hair with a lit cigarette. Long story
short….this was the 1st time I met the future Lilian Imberg, my
wife. We (Corey, I, Lilian, and our drummer) ended up going back to our studio
to do a half ass rehearsal. From there, Lilian and I spent the rest of the
night talking (no hanky panky) and getting to know each other. In a nutshell, I
met the love of my life.
All that said, I suppose the point of the rant is that these
pictures represent so much more than just a promotional picture of a band I was
once in. They are glimpses to the most pivotal 3 years of my life, where I experienced
the pain and despair, but also some fun, and, ultimately, met the woman I would
marry and create an amazing family with.
Funny how life works……
